Same Old Sky | Chapter Two

I staggered through an eighth grace math class.

A few girls were nice to me - kind of. As in, they were nice, but it was hard to be nice back because they all looked alike - I knew I looked exactly like them.

We all wore plaid blue and green skirts, and white shirts that had 'EA' for Ethridge Academy printed on the right shoulder in blue that matched our skirts. Then we were required to wear headbands that were white, with EA-EA-EA printed all over them in alternating colors - blue-green-blue that also matched out skirts.

Only about three of the girls wore earrings - and they wore skull studs - one black and one white.

I was the only one with dangling earrings - they're about an inch long and have three pearls dangling in ascending size.

I let myself be swept through the halls. One day, I knew, I would have to participate, but for now.. For now I would just blend. Learn a little bit.

I was swept, eventually into a small dining hall. It was completely different from all the cafeteria me and my parents had gone to before we decided to come here.

Everyone sat in the same place, every day, divided by grade. So, I sat with seven other eighth graders.

Also, our plates had already been served and were just sitting there.

"Mrs. Etheridge has definite opinions on what 'growing girls' need to stay strong." said a girl with long wavy amber hair and braces whose name was Trisha.

We all laughed -- although I stopped laughing before anyone else.

It wasn't because Mrs. Etheridge was sneaking up on us, or anything like that -- I just hadn't been here long enough to be as desperate for laughter as these girls seemed to be.

I ate the most disgusting things I could remember from all my life. Spinach absolutely coated in some sort of disgusting sauce, Something that I'm hoping was meatloaf, brown rice that I've never liked -- even at home where I just eat and don't look. The only thing that was good was a baked potato covered in bacon and the tiniest little piece of sour cream. I say 'piece' because it looked like the sour cream had been frozen into a stick like butter. Then we each got one slice of sour cream and one slice of butter, if you follow me.

After a little while, the subject drifted to creative writing. Everyone complained about the assignment they would be getting today. When I asked how they knew what the assignment was ahead of time, a girl with short, curly black hair said,

"Because Mrs. Etheridge always tells her daughter ... Amanda." several of the girls made faces.

"And Amanda tells you? That's nice of her," I say carefully.

"Oh, she doesn't 'tell' us" said Trisha, "She brags and teases, but Ali," she pointed to a cute blonde girl with freckles. "sleeps in the bed next to Amanda and sneaks over to check out her homework after Amanda falls asleep."

"She drools." said Ali, making a face. All the girls laughed.

All of a sudden, a short, black haired girl with bangs who was carrying a tray of the disgusting food we had just finished stalked up and squeezed onto the bench next to Ali, who was sitting at the end of the row.

"Who drools?" she said, smirking. All the girls looked, panicing, from Trisha to Ali.

"Trisha! .. Drools, I mean.." I blurted.

Everyone looked releived. Ali poked Trisha playfully and Trisha poked her back and smiled at me. Thank goodness she wasn't mad.

The black haired girl noticed me.

"Oh," she smirked. "It's Samantha Caroline. The new girl. I hope you're getting along all right?" she said, her voice dripping with venom.

"Yes" I mumbled, looking as if the most interesting thing in the world was just over the black haired girl's shoulder.

"Good.." she said, eyeing me, " I wouldn't want to have to bother my sweet mother about you needing anything. I'm Amanda."

"Hi" I mumbled, still looking over her right shoulder.

Amanda tightened her jaw.

"Samantha Caroline, you are the rudest--"

Then the bell rang. I smirked an looked her in the eyes.

"Creative Writing, Amanda. I hope you do well today." I said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You too" said Amanda with a pinched look. She stood up, ignored her tray, and stalked towards creative writing.

All the girls around me grinned as we stood up and ran to put our trays on the counter.

Then we ran back to the table, grabbed our bags (which were green with a white EA printed on the center of every pocket) and ran to creative writing class. Ali and Tasha pulled me to sit in their row, so the order of the row I was sitting in was this, from back to front : Tasha, Me, Ali, Amanda.